


My Heart, Brief as Photos

by poisontaster



Series: Heart 'Verse [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Found Family, Future Fic, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-12
Updated: 2006-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have built more than a school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart, Brief as Photos

"What are you doing?"

Emma regards her twin from under long nearly-white lashes. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know?"

Deacon groans. "C'mon, Em; I'm in no mood for games. Wanna come down to the yard? Me and Marcus are trying to get together a football game."

Emma rolls her eyes. "You know, you're the only one who would ask your _sister_ to come play football with you."

"That's because I know you're tougher than most of the guys here." Deacon grins and flops down on her bed. "C'mon. I'm bored, and it's muddy and maybe you could actually hurt somebody. Bloody noses, bruised up ribs…it'll be _fun_."

Emma rolls onto her back, her hand instinctively tangling in Deacon's hair. His eyes close and he tilts his head up into the touch. "Tempting," she admits. "Very tempting. But I don't think so. I've got some things to do."

Deacon's eyes open and he gives her a look that's a cruel mockery of their father. Sometimes he looks so much like Dad she wants to take a knife to him, just so she wouldn't have to remember. Of course she doesn't, because it's Deacon, and because he'd see her coming from a mile away. But she thinks about it. "What things?"

" _Girl_ things," she chides and touches a fingertip to his nose. He snorts and flinches away from the touch. "In case you forgot, I _am_ really a girl, here."

"I don't forget," he protests. "I just try to overlook that part because I love you so much. You can't help it."

It's her turn to half-laugh and shove his head. "Ass."

"Bitch."

"And don't you forget it."

Deacon lays there a while, letting her run her hands through his hair. He'd never do anything so crass as admit that he likes it, but it's been their habit for almost as long as they've been alive. The six months they'd been in separate foster homes had been the almost the worst days of their life, and after, they'd even slept in the same bed, unwilling to be parted even that long. Sometimes, after lights out, they still did, curled up like puppies.

Of course, so did Marcus and Katie, when she woke up crying from another nightmare. They were all fucked up in their own fundamental ways; it only made sense to hang onto the family you had left.

Finally, though, he sighs and sits up. "You sure?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah," she says, flapping a hand in his direction. "You go on. Maybe I'll be down later."

"We'd have kicked their asses," Deacon says. He sounds a little wistful, and she feels a touch of guilt. But she doesn't tell him no often, and some things are private, even between twins.

"We still will, when I get down there," she replies and shoves him with her foot. "Go on."

He grabs her ankle and tickles the sole of her foot. She shrieks and writhes, flailing wildly until she catches him in the chin with her heel. "Ow!"

"Should have known better," she pants, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "You know what I'm like when you tickle me."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're pretty much like that all the time, Em," Deacon says, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "Hurry up, though. I want to play some football."

"I _will_!" she says, rolling her eyes.

She waits until he's gone to pull the scrapbook out from under her pillow again. Their faces look up at her, smiling and happy, completely unaware of what lies in store for them. Mom, Dad, Becks, and little Meggers, Deacon and Emma in the middle like pale ghosts. It's hard to remember sometimes what that felt like, when they were in the middle of something and not just the raggedy ends. Before Deacon was all she had left.

She pulls the new picture out from under her, where her body hid it—all of them, her and Deacon in the middle again with Sam and Dean book-ending either side and Hari making obscene gestures at the camera. She pastes it in hastily, not wanting to dwell on it too long, her eyes already burning. There are a couple others—her and Deacon at the karate competition last spring, with their trophies and belts, and one of her and Katie and Hari all dolled up for the Fireman's Fling. She glues those in as well, then shuts the book and puts in under all her stuff in the lock box under her bed.

From outside, she hears the shouting already starting up; Marcus's deep authoritative tones and Deacon's mocking shouts. She changes from her skirt into jeans and a heavy shirt, laces on her sneakers and runs out. Maybe she and Deacon will be on opposite sides and she can show him a little something she's been working on with Dean. That would be fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Authorial rambling here, feel free to bypass. When I was coming up with random names for people to inhabit Heart 'verse, I came up with the name Emma first and Deacon just sort of seemed to follow it. Since Deacon isn't a name I've ever used before and I had no specific liking for it, I found that kind of weird. But I couldn't put my finger on why those names seemed to go together in my mind.
> 
> It actually took a couple weeks before I realized: Emma Frost is the White Queen from Marvel, and Deacon Frost is the villain from the first Blade movie. Fandom so totally pwns my brain. It's just true. Anyway, that amused me. Maybe it amuses you too.


End file.
